Dead Man’s Deal. Jocelynn Drake
to make sure I didn’t break the agreement to not use magic as it was to come up with a reason to haul me before the council so I could finally be executed. Gideon was the only buffer I had between myself and death at the hands of the Towers.
“I might soon be removed as your guardian.”
My knees buckled, but I didn’t realize it until I felt a pair of large hands slowly lowering me to the ground. My mind was too busy trying to absorb the information that he had dropped on me. Gideon not my guardian? I was fucked. Totally, undeniably fucked.
Yes, Gideon was an asshole. He had taken pleasure in beating me and scaring me every opportunity that he had. But I wasn’t an idiot. I knew that I had given him plenty of opportunities over the years to drag me before the council. Hell, he had the council’s permission to kill me on sight if he caught me using magic. If anyone else had been tasked with watching me, I wouldn’t have survived my first year away from the Towers.
I’d gotten better, severely cutting back on my magic use. I didn’t absentmindedly flush the toilet with a wave of my hand anymore, but I still used magic and I would have to continue to use it until I got free of Reave.
“Why? What’s happened?” My voice was hoarse when I could speak. Bronx released his hold on my arms, but was hovering close.
Gideon paused and looked over at Bronx.
“Trust him!” I shouted. “He’s not going to run off and tell your secrets.”
“The Towers are in chaos,” he admitted in a rush. “While a body hasn’t been located, the general consensus is that Simon Thorn is dead, and with few exceptions, all fingers are pointing in your direction.”
Simon had been my mentor at the Ivory Towers. I’d left at the age of sixteen because of my hatred for their beliefs, and Simon wasn’t pleased with my decision. He tried to kill me, but I survived by some insane stroke of luck. The council let me live and leave, but Simon had never accepted the decision. When an opening on the council recently popped up, Simon decided to kill me so the blemish on his past was eradicated. He had failed and was now buried under a residential street in an extremely shitty part of Low Town.
“I doubt you’re going to find a body,” I said, and then glared up at Gideon. “You can’t tell me anyone is upset the bastard is gone.”
He shook his head, looking tired. “No. Some are pissed that you managed to kill someone from the Towers. Others were simply reminded that you’re still alive, and are focused on having you killed, legally.”
Legally.
Now, that was the big joke. A witch or a warlock could come down from the Towers and strike down anyone they wanted with no fear of retribution from anyone. However, there were rules for killing a witch or a warlock. Problems within the Towers were brought before the council to be decided on and people were punished accordingly—most of it being a painful death sentence. Of course, there were exceptions: people who secretly took matters into their own hands. But I could guess why most wanted me put down legally and it had to do with the recent jump in the number of runaways from the Towers.
“And since you’ve not succeeded in bringing me back before the council for my inevitable execution …”
“They are considering replacing me with someone who will get the job done,” Gideon finished.
“Does anyone suspect that you’re helping me?”
“I’m sure someone does, but so far no one has dared to voice it out loud.” Gideon paused and I could feel the weight of his gaze on me. There was something he needed to say, but was holding back.
“Spit it out.” My nerves were already frayed with fear. I didn’t like being pinned between the forces of the Towers and Reave’s Mafia.
“I’m currently left with two choices. I think I’ve got a matter of weeks before they agree to replace me, if not less time. I can either find a reason to bring you before the council …” Gideon paused again, lifting one hand gracefully toward the house I had “protected.” “Or I can let them replace me, leaving you to fend for yourself.”
“Does the council still have an empty seat?” There were a total of thirteen seats on the council, but if there was one open, a tie vote would mean at least a temporary stay of execution.
“Yes, but with things in such turmoil, I don’t think you’ll get the tie vote you’re obviously hoping for. You’ll be dead within an hour of arriving before the council.”
“Fuck.” I sighed, dropping my head into my hands while resting my elbows on my bent knees. The Ivory Towers needed a scapegoat, someone they could use as a warning to the others who were training to be witches or warlocks. There was no escaping. There was only one way in the world—theirs.
Sadly it took me a minute to think of another angle. My head snapped up so I could see Gideon again. “Are you safe?”
“What do you mean?” Gideon demanded. His brow furrowed at the sharp question, casting his gray eyes in shadow.
“If they replace you, it’s likely they suspect you’re at least a sympathizer. It would put you in a dangerous position. You and your family. Are you safe? Are they?”
A ghost of a smile crossed his grim mouth. “They are safe for now, and I will manage. But if it comes down to protecting them and protecting you, I’m sure you know how I will choose.”
With a grunt, I pushed back to my feet and brushed off the back of my pants. They were damp from where I had been sitting on earth soft from the recent rains. Unfortunately, I had bigger problems than a mud stain on my ass. “Yeah, I know.”
“Have you spoken to any of the runaways?” Gideon suddenly asked.
I blinked, my mind struggling to keep up with the swift change in topics. “Not knowingly.”
“Are you sure?”
“Look, I don’t know who left the Towers. I didn’t know any apprentices while I was there and you and Sofie are the only ones that I speak with now. If one stopped in the parlor, I wouldn’t know it. Are you saying they’re in Low Town?”
“Yes. My group knows they’re in town, but rumors are starting to circulate in the Towers that they’re here.”
“And I imagine rumors are stating that I drew them here,” I grumbled. “Damn it, Gideon! The Towers aren’t even supposed to know where I am.”
The warlock nodded. “Four more left recently. We’ve tried isolating the apprentices more than ever before, but it seems to be getting worse.”
“Four? What’s that make it? Seven here in Low Town.”
He sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. “Five. Two were killed in their escape attempt.”
“Wouldn’t it be best if these runaways sought Gage out?” Bronx inquired.
“No!” Gideon and I said in unison. For a moment I had forgotten that the troll was even there, I had been so lost in a world that I had tried desperately to leave behind.
“But you’ve survived; thrived even. You could help them,” Bronx suggested.
“Things were different when I left ten years ago.” I looked down at my hands and tried not to imagine the blood that had been splattered across them during my short time living in the Towers. “I was the only one to ever consider leaving. An anomaly. They let me go, but with restrictions, and many are still calling for my head.”
Gideon shifted, crossing his arms over his chest. “If the Towers can confirm that Gage has anything to do with the runaways, they will see it as a sign that he’s attempting to lead some kind of revolution.” The warlock frowned, staring at me. “It will be war, and the Towers won’t stop until Gage and all the runaways are dead. I wouldn’t be surprised if they chose to wipe out an entire generation of human children as a warning.